Tang: It's Not Just For Astronauts Anymore

Dear Governor Sanford,

With all that's going on with you, I just wanted to remind you of our good times. Me: strolling alongside while we toured Palermo Viejo. You: dropping boiled peanut shells as tourists stared at you. I remember you said they knew who you were. Looking back, they probably wondered what a beautiful tranny like me was doing with a guy like you.

But that's how love is. It's blind and raw and unfaltering in its relentlessness. Overwhelms us when we least expect it. All unaware and exposed.

I can't wait for the temperature to rise. I miss lounging on the beach with you. I can still see you lying there in your cut off jeans, drinking Tang and spitting egg salad sandwich everywhere as you went on and on about Gamecock football. You said the astronauts drank Tang, and I asked which ones. You didn't know. God, I could love that dumbass smile forever.

Oh, Sanfy.

I won't let our love fade. Just so you know. And I'll be here waiting for you (with a six pack of Smucker's Concord Grape Jelly).

My love's as deep as a jar of Nuttela from Costco,

Adriana